


The Power of Words

by ChokolatteJedi



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Blood, Gen, One Shot, Pre-Canon, Psychological Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-01
Updated: 2009-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 04:18:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/145302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChokolatteJedi/pseuds/ChokolatteJedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The night he is turned, William searches out some of his former acquaintances.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Power of Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Highlander_II](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/gifts).



> Spoilers for S5Ep7 - _Fool for Love_ , and hints from S7E17 - _Lies My Parents Told Me_.

They didn't even bother to wait until he was completely out of the room before they started to insult him. As William hurried from the room in search of his Cecily, he heard Marie Donner say "They call him William the Bloody" because of his bloody awful poetry."

George Milbourne laughed as he replied, "It suits him! I'd rather have a railroad spike through my head than listen to that awful stuff!"

William left the room and headed towards the small drawing room, but he stowed the comments away in the back of his mind. Someday, when he was a brilliant writer, he would find a way to make George and Marie pay for their words. Words were powerful, as William knew well. Actions were crude and unnecessary when words could be employed in their place.

(o)

William knocked politely on the door to the Milbournes' townhouse. He had watched, after the dinner party, as George and his brother Anders escorted a few of the others here for a nightcap.

At last, the door opened, and William saw George, himself, instead of their usual butler. Apparently the servants had been allowed to retire for the night. "William?" George enquired stiffly. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I just came by to have a word with you and the others." William replied politely. He nodded his head in submissive obedience, both hands clasped behind his back.

Marie came bustling up to the door, her skirts swishing as she walked. William could hear them now, the way that every layer of fabric rubbed against the next with each movement. It was amazing what he could hear now, including the rhythmic heartbeats of the two people standing before him. And the five others in the room just beyond them. And, more faintly, everyone else in the household, while they slept in their beds. William could hear it all, could feel it all - he felt like his entire body had been remade, just a bit keener, just a bit more sensitive than before.

"I don't think you should come in right now, William," Marie said, her heartbeat quickening just slightly. "Cecily doesn't wish to speak with you." Marie ducked her head demurely, as though it would negate her earlier words and actions.

"That's alright; I don't actually wish to speak with Cecily at the moment." William straitened up and pulled his hands out from behind his back, revealing the two railroad spikes he had been hiding. "I'll settle for killing her instead." William lunged forward, thrusting with the spike in his left hand. He had never been very good at sword work, but he was counting on his newfound strength to succeed.

George ducked away from his first blow, shoving Marie behind him to protect her. He grabbed at his side, his hand clearly searching for the sword that he usually wore for show, but it had been taken off at some earlier point.

William lunged with his railroad spike again, this time catching a glancing blow off of George's arm. The nobleman clutched his elbow, grimacing in pain, as Marie gasped. "Oh come now," William grinned. The lower class brogue slipped off his tongue easily. William had often sat in unnoticed corners, writing, while servants bustled around, chattering. Their lower-class way of talking seemed to fit his new personality better. "It was you what said that you'd rather be run through with a railroad spike than have to listen to my poetry again, Georgie-boy. I'm just grantin' yer wish, mate."

Sweeping the other spike out, William caught the feet of both George and Marie, sending them crashing to the floor. George tried to get up, but his long coat had gotten tangled up in Marie's many layers of skirts, and he was having trouble detangling himself. William drove one of the spikes through the layers of cloth and into the floor, trapping both of his victims even further.

"Please," Marie gasped, her ribboned bodice rising and falling prettily. "Please, what are you going to do to us?"

William snarled, felt the shifting of his features, and then grinned widely. "I'm gonna kill you, pet." He leaned down, until his face was just inches from hers, and inhaled deeply. The scent that hit him was intoxicating - rose water and lilac lotion, flesh and blood, mulled wine, and best of all, _fear_. "And I'm gonna enjoy it."

He licked her collar bone and then bit down, hard. Blood rushed into his mouth, tantalizing and sweet and full of life. His nose was overrun with the smell of her as his tongue was filled with her taste. William drank deeply, ignoring Marie's terrified gasps and George's frightened shouts, until other voices joined in the racket.

William raised his head, blood dripping down his chin, and took in the sight around him. George was still sprawled on the floor, his fear overwhelming everything else about him. Anders and their friend Harold were comforting two sobbing noblewomen, who seemed to have collapsed to the floor upon seeing William.

And there was Cecily. She was watching him - with fear yes, but it wasn't overpowering her as it did the others - and a small frown sketched on her delicate brows. "William?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible over the shrieks of her companions.

"Cecily." He hated the way that her name sounded in his rough voice, the word tangling in his fangs and tongue as it tripped out of his mouth. With barely a thought, his face had shifted back into its human appearance. "Cecily." He whispered again.

If anything, her face looked even harsher than it had when she had turned him away earlier that night. She was now looking at him the way someone might observe a leper who was asking to taint them with their plague. "You're a demon," she declared, her voice filled with horror, disgust, and worst of all - pity.

William felt something snap inside of him. Yes, he was a demon now, but that was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He was now immortal, a god among men. He could have anyone or anything he wanted, and she wanted to pity him? William could kill her without a thought! He could turn her into a demon like him - he could condemn her to walk the world in shame as people looked upon her with the same revulsion she now viewed him with.

As he examined her face, though, William realized what he would do. He wouldn't turn Cecily, or even kill her - that was far too good of an ending for the one who had hurt him so badly. No. He would simply kill the others, force her to watch, and then leave her. Leave her with the pain and the memories and the guilt. He wouldn't kill her, and he wouldn't even taste her. He would simply break her. And he would do it with words, not with brutish actions.

William rose from his crouch and morphed back into his demonic form. Grabbing his abandoned railroad spike, he quickly turned the others into a messy pile of gore. Blood dripped down the fine walls, spattered his face and Cecily's rich dress. Lastly, William pulled his first spike out of the floor and approached George, who was whimpering in fear. With a smirk, William drove the spike through the man's head and buried it halfway into the floor beneath.

At last, panting slightly, William took in the sight of the carnage around him. It was hot and bloody and full of the scents of fear and death. It was _glorious._ William appreciated the heady feeling for a few moments before he allowed his face to shift back into its human form. Then, at last, he turned around to face his tormentor, his Cecily.

"I am a demon," he said softly, choosing his words carefully, "I am. And I chose this, for you. You told me that I was beneath you, and so I allowed this to happen to me. As a human, I didn't have enough wealth and standing, but I can become a king among demons, and then perhaps I will be good enough for you. I am William the Bloody. I am the Spike." William adopted his most earnest expression. "And everything I do, I do for you. I will maim for you. I will kill for you. I will bathe this world in blood, and all of it will be for you, my Cecily."

The noblewoman looked at him for a long moment, and then she burst into hysterics. Huge sobs wracked her, and tears streamed down her face as she collapsed to the floor among the desecrated bodies of her friends, her fine golden gown covered in their blood. William left the house, whistling a merry tune that his mother used to sing to him. The night was young - hell, the rest of eternity was stretched out before him - and Spike intended to enjoy it. As he sauntered away, William's final words hung on the air, tearing into the heart, mind, and soul of one woman. "And all of it will be for you, my Cecily."


End file.
